Inside
by Lue'cleste
Summary: Insp. by Helen Trevillion's 'Inside'. House selfharms, and someone finds him. Dark, may change the rating later.


Inside

By Silver Snape Silk

Rating: M for Mature themes.

Summary: Cameron walks in on House…and gets a shock…. Dark.

Author's Notes: This fic is inspired by a few things… Hugh Laurie said in an interview that he was worried that House may do himself some physical harm, and by the song of the same name by Helen Trevillion. ( Her website is destiny - hikari. net remove spaces) I do not have permission to use the song, but I listen to it a lot and can relate to it.

Also, when I started this story, I had been awake for 29 hours, so if anything is amiss and you notice…sorry. I proofread myself.

Disclaimer: The characters don't belong to me, I'm just torturing them a little, and taking a few liberties with them. The song 'Inside' is copyright to Helen Trevillion, and I highly recommend you visit her site, her music is amazing.

He drew the small knife down his wrist, feeling the rush, the release, feeling alive. Cutting himself always felt good, it was a pain he could control, it was something he could control. He closed his eyes savouring the pain, feeling the rush it always brought with it. He was so preoccupied with his feelings that he didn't hear the door open, didn't hear the footsteps leading to his office, didn't see the figure standing watching him as he drew the knife down his wrist again, the blood welling up from numerous self-inflicted cuts.

So he jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "House?"

He looked up…straight into the eyes of Dr. Allison Cameron. "Don't you know when to leave people alone? Get out!" He bellowed.

To his shock, even though he was half-expecting it, she didn't budge. "Get out!" He bellowed again. She just stood her ground, watching him. And, to his surprise, she held out her left wrist. In the light from his desk lamp he saw the scars upon the pale skin, pale, but visible. He felt another surge of anger, and yelled again, "So? Do you think that somehow you understand me? That I'll sit down and discuss my feelings with you? How can you possibly understand? You were probably just like every other fucked up teenager who cut themselves! How could you possibly understand?!"

She just kept staring at him, expressionless. And again, to his surprise, she showed him more scars… these on her hip. And he noticed that some of them were fresh, still raw. And then she spoke for the first time. "You want the release, the control, the rush. You want to feel alive, because inside, you are dead, and by cutting yourself, you feel all of these things. I understand. I understand all too well." She paused for a moment. "You said I only wanted you because you were damaged. You were half right. I saw a part of me in you, and I wanted to know that I wasn't alone. It wasn't your leg. The leg didn't mean anything."

She put her hand on his shoulder, and gave it a quick squeeze before turning to leave.

"Cameron. Wait." He softly choked out. She stopped and turned. "Sit with me. Please." He suddenly realized he didn't want to be alone tonight. She nodded briefly, pulled up a chair, and sat with him. After a few minutes, he reached out and took her hand, simply holding it in his own.

They didn't know how long they sat like that, in silence, holding hands, but some hours before dawn, they were both asleep.

They both awoke (thank goodness the blinds had been closed) to the sound of music being blared from the differential room, the piece was not a heavy one, it was a piano and a woman's voice, but the volume-

They could clearly hear the lyrics, and both started, but listened.

Do you cry for the pain 

_To wash away your tears_

_And leave you frozen again?_

_And do you turn to the night_

_To hide away your dark _

_When you don't want to fight?_

_Don't draw the night across your eyes_

_Coz there's so much here to love that you won't see_

_At all_

_Are you so deaf to the pleas_

_Of loved ones trying to help?_

_Too deep inside yourself to see_

_And are you so blind to the hands_

_That want to lead you home?_

_But you won't let them understand_

_Don't use your tears to pull away_

_Or carve a label bleeding raw upon your skin_

_Or feed the silent bitterness you feel_

_When the world doesn't end as you sleep_

_It's so much easier not to carry on_

_To turn your back on all the good that you've forgotten_

_Too deep inside yourself to see beyond the night_

_Just coz you feel it now it doesn't make it right_

_It's so much easier not to carry on_

_To turn your back on all the good that you've forgotten_

_Too deep inside yourself to see beyond the night_

_Oh where's the glory if you sleep beyond the light?_

_Just make a promise that you won't forget to fight..._

House looked over at Cameron. She shrugged. "Chase. He blares it when he's first one in." House rolled his eyes. "I'll bet it's all from Wombat-land and lacks the goodness of both Mick Jagger and The Who?"

She laughed. "Most of it, I think. Some of it's good."

By now the next song had started, heavy guitars, and what could be a synthesized flute melody over the top, then a woman's voice that sounded like an opera singer, singing…something. Something about the sun setting behind the pyramids. Cameron drew a breath. "I didn't know he was a Nightwish fan though. This song is 'Tutankhamen'."

House looked at her incredulously. "You _know_ this? My opinion of you just dropped a few points."

She laughed. "So now it's in the minus?"

"Almost, but not quite." He paused. "Last night-"

"I won't tell anyone. I promise." She held out her hand. "Let me see your wrist. No arguments," she added, as he opened his mouth. "You've seen mine, now I want to see yours."

"Well now." He said, smirking. She waggled her brows at him, then turned her attention to his wrist. The blood had dried, but she still wanted to clean it. It would make it less visible. She told him so, as she got the medkit, and cleaned the wounds with saline, then picked up the knife and slipped it in a drawer.

"Thank you." He said, simply. And coming from House, that meant quite a lot.

"You're welcome." She replied. "And if you ever need someone…." He nodded. "And now for some wombat baiting!"

They headed towards the differential room, masks slipping back into place, pretending nothing had changed. Because, no matter how hard they may have tried to forget, everything between them had changed. Both now knew they were no longer alone, and perhaps, they had grown closer together. Who knows?

-FIN-

A/N: I decided to make Cameron a self-harmer, it seemed most likely to me, and what started it, you ask? Her husband, of course. I hope you liked...and you were warned, so no flames on content. You don't like a particular pairing or genre...don't read it. Simple.


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